Lucy felt her heart splinter in her breast. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. There were two. Each morning his inquiry was properly answered: the patient was steadily improving, but none could say when he would be strong enough to proceed upon his journey. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent.
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